Revenge And A Demon
by Saho07
Summary: WARNING: Content contains spoilers from the episode 9x10. If you have not seen that episode or the episodes before it, don't blame me for spoiling it when I gave you a fair warning. Revenge And A Demon: Crowley is a sneaky bastard, Dean knows this, but he never expected the demon to take it THIS far. Pleasure and Pain unite turning Dean's world upside down. MALE X MALE SEX, S
1. Chapter 1

Dean opened the door to his hotel room. Looking around he felt a stab of pain in his chest. it had been a week since he and Sammy split but he still felt the loneliness like it was yesterday. Sighing, Dean dropped his bag on the floor and flopped down on the bed. He lay there like that for a while, nearly falling asleep, when he heard a very familiar scottish voice.

"Well isn't this just a lovely shit hole."

Dean didn't look up, he didn't even move.

"Go away Crowley."

"Oh come on squirrel, don't be such a kill joy. After all, that's my job."

Dean sighed loudly. He was far too tired to deal with Crowley's smart ass mouth.

"Crowley, I swear if you don't leave and let me sleep I'm gonna-"

"Okay okay. Don't get your knickers in a knot. I'll leave, only cause there's no toys here to play with."

After a moment Dean looked around his room. No demons in sight. Flopping his head back down Dean fell asleep. Completely unaware that Crowley would soon return. Toys in hand and a smile playing on his lips.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean returned to consciousness slowly. He felt like he'd been asleep for days. Yawning loudly Dean began to stretch his limbs, then panic set in. He couldn't move his arms or legs. Dean opened his eyes. All he could see at first was the ceiling. That's when he realize he wasn't in bed anymore. He was laying on the floor chained to what looked like a giant wood X. His arms and legs each spread out to the individual ends. Dean struggled, trying to break free.

"That won't work squirrel. Those chains are 3in thick steel. Impossible to , if your human that is."

Dean looked over at the voice, hate filling his veins. There sitting in the chair, sipping some sort of dark amber liquid, was Crowley.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

"Isn't it obvious? I'm getting a little revenge. After all, you and your giant of a brother not only tried using me in your little close-the-gates-of-hell ritual, but then you had to nerve to keep me locked up and chained like a common dog!"

Crowley took a sip from his glass.

"So, needless to say, you've got a lot to make up for."

Dean laughed darkly.

"Go ahead, torture me. You're forgetting one very important thing. I've already been to hell. There is nothing you can do that Alastair hadn't done already."

Crowley flashed a dark menacing grin.

"That's where you're wrong. See, Alastair just tortured you. While I am going to do far more than that. I am going to make you doubt every single clear cut right or wrong thought you've ever had. I am going to peel you open, break you down, then turn you inside out."

Crowley sipped his drink again. Dean clenched his fists, trying to prepare for whatever the demon had planned, but he couldn't deny he was scared. No one was coming for him. Sammy was pissed at him and Cas was sticking close to Sammy to fix what ever damage Gadriel had done. Dean was alone. Crowley rose from his chair, set down his glass, and slowly walked over to Dean.

"So, should we get started?"

Crowley walk around Dean until he was standing by his head. There was a rope and pulley, which Dean hadn't noticed before, attached to the device he was chained to. Crowley pulled the rope down, pulling Dean up until the wooden X was standing. Dean swallowed nervously. Crowley loved theatrics, but he wasn't sure just how much of this was a show. Crowley walked back around to face Dean, this time he had a small black bag with him. It looked far too much like a doctor's medical bag for Dean's liking. Crowley placed the bag on the table. Slowly he began pulling items from the bag. Lovingly petting each one as he arranged them side by side. Most of them Dean recognized. Knives of all shapes and sizes. Some dull, some sharp. A standard bullwhip, along with a more elaborate nine tails.

"Whips huh? Didn't know you were into the kinky shit. What's next, leather masks and heels?"

Crowley looked at Dean and smiled.

"No masks or heels darling. But I do have other, more demeaning toys I will be pulling out later."

Crowley returned to his work, going even slower than before. Dean struggled against the chains again. His heart was pounding so fast, he thought it was going to beat right out of his chest. If it did, at least he wouldn't have to find out what other more sick and demented toys Crowley had planned for him further down the road. Finally, Crowley had laid all of his instruments out on the table. All except one. Slowly Crowley walked over to Dean, a wicked smile playing on his lips. Dean's blood froze.

"Don't even think-"

Dean's words were lost, trapped by the round red gag ball now stuffed in his mouth. Crowley tightened the strap. He wanted to hear Dean cry out in pain, but he also had to make sure no one else heard it. He would be deeply upset if his games were ended before he could thoroughly enjoy himself.

"Now then. Let's begin."

* * *

Author's Note: Pre-warning, I've in a very sadistic mood. If you couldn't tell already, this story is going to dive on the dark side of S&M. So, if you still wanna continue reading, you've been warned.


	3. Chapter 3

Crowley dropped the bloody knife on the table. All of his tools were covered in blood. He looked over at the hunter, his lips curling up into a wide smile. Dean's head was cast down, he seemed to have lost the strength to hold it up somewhere around the fifty-sixth cut, and his arms were so caked in blood, you could barely tell where one cut ended and another began. Crowley walked back over to Dean. He could hear the hunter's rough breathing, just barely audible. Raising his hand up, Crowley ran a finger along one of the tender wounds across Dean's chest. The tired hunter whined in protest.

"This, this right here is why I love whips. You can slice some one to ribbons with just a simple flick of the wrist. Don't worry though, they won't scar. None of the cuts will. I was very careful, cutting just enough to cause pain, but not enough to do any permanent damage."

Crowley walked back over to the table and picked up the nine tails whip, one of his personal favorites, along with a small silver remote.

"The object you are currently chained to is one of my personal favorites. I had it custom made so that should I want to, I could position my victim any way I wanted while still having them chained and under my control. Like so."

Crowley pressed a button on the remote. All at once, the chains slackened and Dean tumbled down to the floor. The hunter was to tired to move, he couldn't even lift his head. Crowley walked slowly around the hunter, loving how broken and weak he looked, then stopped by Dean's feet. A cold smile spread across Crowley's face. Flexing his wrist once, Crowley raised his arm and began striking Dean's back. The hunter cried out against his gag, but lacked the strength to move away from the blows. Crowley struck Dean again. Blow after blow, until his back was more blood than flesh. Finally, Crowley stopped. He walked back to the table and gently placed the whip down once more. Crouching down, Crowley rolled the hunter over onto his back. Dean, whining loudly, as his new wounds grazed the ruff carpet. Crowley undid the strap of the gag and removed it from Dean's mouth.

"Are you sure Alastair tortured you? Cause from where I'm standing, you look like nothing more than a sad broken toy. If I didn't have even more fun planned for you, I might seriously have considered leaving you here for dead."

Dean didn't respond. He couldn't move, he couldn't think. Hell, he could barely breath with out a white hot searing pain shooting through all his limbs. His eyelid felt like led. He would have loved nothing more than to pass out, but the pain kept him awake. Crowley chuckled darkly above him.

"I was hoping to have more fun this evening, but it doesn't look like you can take anymore. Oh well, we have tomorrow night after all. I suppose I can wait a little."

Dean's vision blurred then. He could hear Crowley moving behind him, but that was it. His eyes were starting to betray him. Then, he heard the sound of metal scraping. Dean struggled to focus. Crowley was removing the chains from his wrists and ankles. Dean's heart beat quickened. Why was he taking the chains off? What fresh new hell did the demon have planned for him? Once all the chains had been removed Crowley grabbed Dean by the wrists, hoisting him up and over his shoulder. Dean's whole body ached. Even the smallest movement sent white stars dancing across his vision. Dean could hear the sound of keys, then a door being opened. Crowley dropped Dean down into the open space. He waited for Dean to realize just where he was. The shock, then anger that crossed the hunter's half dead face, how Crowley loved that look on him.

"That's right boy, payback's a bitch."

With that Crowley closed the lid, sealing Dean in a never ending darkness. To say Dean was pissed was an understatement. He didn't know which was worse. The fact that he was now locked in the trunk of his own car unable to even utter a syllable in protest, or that Crowley was about to get behind the wheel of his baby. Dean shuddered inwardly. Where the hell was Crowley taking him? And when was this nightmare going to end? A cold voice whispers in the back of Dean's mind,

_When you're dead._


End file.
